A nice, happy ending
by AwesomeSaucelv8
Summary: Doesn't happen in real life. Life is no fairy tale, no game. Sometimes, people are there that just shouldn't be, and that's why it hurts the most when they leave. This girl, she is invisible, intangible, barely there at all, and yet you risk your social standing to help her? What, are you some prince in shining armour or something? Well guess what; they don't exist. Slight RukoTei?


**This is extremely depressing. Well, the fic is depressing, but it's also depressing because I'm nearing ten complete fics and I'm still going to give out that prize of one commission to my best reviewer and follower. Insentive. Much.**

**I wrote this after an extremely depressing day at school and a sudden obssesion with Utau.**

_**Warning: This oneshot contains slight blood and/or references to blood, severely depressing scenes, possible char death. Read at your own risk.**_

* * *

There is a girl. She goes to school every day, like anyone else. She has a house where she sleeps. She has no need for friends.  
This girl walks through the corridors, like a ghost. She is never noticed by her fellow classmates. She is afraid, far too afraid, of people, and of herself. But perhaps, if he hadn't been so nice, she wouldn't have turned out like this.  
Her name is Tei.

* * *

Tei got to school that day, if you remember correctly, not looking for friends or enemies, just simply to be.

That's what she was. A wraith. A being the simply was.  
If you remember, she never talked, never put up her hand, never smiled behind her hand when the others did.

This intrigued you.

Rumors about her began to spread once the Girls found out she was adopted. They made snide remarks amongst themselves about how lucky they were to have caring parents. The ghost of the class didn't hear. She was far too busy rolling in her own self-pity.

You remember a time when you were in that place, laughing along while the Girls hurled spears at you.

You wondered why she didn't react. She was a mystery waiting to be solved.

So you watched carefully, seeing her every move. You discovered a little tic, that whenever her name was uttered, her fist would clench slightly. You knew then that she could hear, that she wasn't deaf, that all your friends were wrong about her.

And then That happened.

It must be a painful day to remember for you. After all, you figured that It all started There.

A Boy, one of the Girl's legionaries, asked her something. They left school together that day. Only one Girl didn't laugh when they left. Instead, she was worried. You asked, and she told you about her condition.

You didn't believe a word.

After all, Girls didn't tell the truth. And you should know.

And the next day He came back, white like a ghost, white like her, his purple (not red) eyes wide in fear.

For once, you approached the Girls, and for the first time, it wasn't you who they pushed away.

"How could you!" You remember them saying. Wraith-girl didn't even respond. Her blank look didn't change a bit. "I knew you were just a freak!"

Freak. That's what you were just a year ago.

But still, she didn't change, didn't even bother to ask them to move out of the way, so she could take notes. She just stared impassively, as always.

Months went by and rumors mutated into truths and then into lies.

They said she killed her own parents, so she was orphaned to an abusive family.

They said she was mute. They said she was mentally retarded.

The teachers, they thought she could do better, chastised her on work unfinished, told her to pull her socks up.

And then you picked up the courage to stop watching, and act.

"Hey."

She didn't respond at first, until you put a hand on her shoulder. While your eyes didn't notice the subtle change, you felt her shoulder tense under your fingers. It was subtle, but enough to egg you on.

You asked how her day was. She said nothing, still, living up to the rumours. You asked her if she wanted to hang out after school. Still, she said nothing, her eyes set on an invisible thing in the distance.

You took her silence as a yes, and that's when she opened her mouth, just ever so slightly, enough to make a sound.

"Please let go." She whispered, except it was less of a whisper and more like someone talking from very far away.

You did, and let her move away. You were so sure that you were the first person to talk to a ghost. But there was another.

His name was Len. He smiled at her on her first week of school. Her hopes lit up like candles. But, these candles were quickly extinguished when she never heard from him again.

Now that you know this, you can understand her reluctance to talk. But you weren't deterred, were you?

No. Any ordinary human would have just gone back to their friends do as not to risk having their entire social life crumble around them. But not you.

Then again, what classified as 'ordinary'? Because that's not what the Girls called you before.

You tried again during Maths, wasn't it? You abandoned your entire group to sit next to the loner.

You talked to her, but you may as well have been talking to yourself with the amount of response you were getting.

You decided to resort to more desperate measures, and scribbled your name on her work. It was only a small thing, barely noticeable. And yet you noticed her small changes. Her fist clenched. Her eyes flicked down to the paper, quicker than the eye could see. Nobody else noticed. You did, the watcher, the observer.

And then you asked her to come over. And she responded.

Before I go on, I should dare to think that you might even regret doing this. Maybe, you think that it would have been better if you left her. But then you'd never have known what happened.

She accepted. She didn't actually say anything, but somehow she ended up at your front door, and here you are.

You invite her into your abode, not failing to notice the small pauses and hesitance in her steps. You have to get her to trust you. To show you are a real friend.

You talk. You invite her to sit on the couch and make her a mug of coffee. You take a seat beside her.

She is still, like a ghostly statue, not bothering to acknowledge you or the coffee. You prompt her into talking, but she rejects the outstretched hand.

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. Perhaps getting to break the barrier is going to take more effort than you thought.

You start a friendly conversation. Simple, inoffensive topics. What do you like to read? What music do you listen to?

You turn on your iPod and for once she responded properly. Her bony arms rise higher and higher, almost too slowly, a slow-motion black and white movie. White hair and black dress.

"Turn it off." She shouts. It is a quiet shout, barely heard. You comply.

And after that you start to feel worried. Why did she react like that? You stare at her with a matching stare, empty and piercing. She is out of the door before you can stop her. The only evidence of her existence is an open door and a cold cup of coffee.

It is days later and your mind is replaying the incident, over and over. You make up scenarios. You observe the mirror-ghosts reactions. And yet, even you, the watcher, observer, cannot puzzle it out.

She arrives at the normal time, on the dot. The Boy, the one that you have heard got stabbed in the arm, gives her a dirty look. You shudder to think that such a look could be possible.

The Girls, friends of the Boy, no doubt, surround her and drag her under once more. As always, you trust her to be nothing. To do nothing. Maybe, you figure, if she doesn't touch them, they can't touch her.

You don't sit next to her today. You already feel guilt for forcing er into an uncomfortable situation. Instead, you sit with your friends. All they can talk about is this strange, specter-like figure who suddenly got even weirder. Her sleeve brushes yours as you pass her. You expect her to say something, but she doesn't, she you keep on walking. Keep on walking without once bothering to look back.

Is this what happened with Len?

You pass through the change rooms. You prefer not to get changed in public for obvious reasons, so you head for the isolated shower cubicles.

And you hear a faint wind cry.

It is so quiet you could have thought it was a mouse.

There is a single closed door, shut off from the rest. You already know who it is before you reach it. The water isn't running.

"Tei?"

Everything is still, as if the ghost ordered the air itself to stale. You hold your breath.

Carefully, so as not to disturb her, you bend down so that you can see partway under the door. You see a tiny, minuscule drop of blood fall and not leave so much as a mark on the wet floor.

You leave as quickly as you came; there is no reason for you to stay here. At least one of the rumours was true.

You see her later, after school, and follow her home. It is then that you realize you catch the same bus. To think you never noticed before.

She owns a neat, two story house. It is white and gold.

You knock on the door. Nobody answers.

You expected as such, and walk around the back to an open window. Inside, you see something you think you never should have seen. She is there, holding a steak knife, repeatedly thrusting it into a wall, into a poster of a boy. It is well and truly torn. Her stabs slow as she registers your presence. She turns slowly and carefully with a blank mask pulled over her previously insanely mad face.

She lets you in, but ony after you persist, and make up stories and excuses. Haven't you already done enough.

She does nothing to shrug you away, but makes no advances either. Your lame attempts at conversation die quickly like embers. There comes a silence as she leads you away, upstairs. You aren't sure if she wants you there or not, but you know that she needs help.

You notice her sleeves are extra long today.

In front of a mirror, you find her there, holding something in her hand. You stop at the door.

She smiles like a dead person might.

"I wish I could be the girl in that mirror."

Dread. Your old friend. It bites at you in little nibbles, taking away whatever it hasn't already.

"She's so pretty, and no one can judge her, and she doesn't even need emotions."

Now she turns, still looking at the girl in the mirror.

"I stabbed him. I didn't mean it. Maybe I am just a freak after all."

Where are those words you planned to say? Your throat just catches and fails you.

A cold, hard metal presses against her head. You look away and she is never again.

* * *

There was a girl once. She went to school, and went back home again without fuss. She had no friends but never tried to make one. She was only noticed in passing or in spite, and was clinging on to some farfetched dream she knew could never be achieved. You know now what should have been done a long time ago, but it is too late. She will never find the friend she needed.  
Her name was Tei.

* * *

**And that's a wrap! Please review; it makes me happy. If I get no reviews, I become more and more like Tei. If you know what's good for you, then feed my back! I mean give me feedback. Right.**

**And now to finish possibly maybe not writing Ten-Faced's story... I'll get distracted though. But if I update again, you can be sure it will be Dark Woods Circus, so keep an eye out!**

**See you later! Out!**


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